


DeLeon

by sierraraeck



Series: Aundreya Chambers [24]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Aaron Hotchner - Freeform, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aundreya Chambers, David Rossi - Freeform, Derek Morgan - Freeform, Emily Prentiss - Freeform, F/M, FBI, Gen, Heavy Angst, Original Female Character - Freeform, POV Original Female Character, Penelope Garcia - Freeform, Slow Burn, Spencer Reid - Freeform, Spencer Reid Angst, Spencer Reid Fluff, Tara Lewis - Freeform, bau, jennifer jareau - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29189346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sierraraeck/pseuds/sierraraeck
Summary: Series Summary: This is a series following Aundreya Chambers and her experience with the BAU, Spencer, and trying to navigate the FBI as a high-profile criminal. And things get very messy.Chapter Summary: Aundreya and the team have to devise a plan to get Spencer back safely, which could mean tossing Aundreya back into the belly of the beast. Story twenty-four.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), The BAU Team/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Aundreya Chambers [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130924
Kudos: 1





	DeLeon

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again with more problems. But we might just fix them this time. Also, I’m not sure how accurate my drug information is.

Stitching yourself up hurts like a bitch. It requires lots of alcohol in _all_ capacities. I may have knocked out the fist guy, but the other two were good. One of them opened up a nice gash in my left leg with my own goddamn knife, which I finished stitching and started wrapping. I tried my best not to pass out, but I came close at least three times. 

Once I wrapped it, I hobbled to my bedroom to change clothes. I didn’t have time to worry about the blood on them, or in the living room for that matter, and just tossed them to the side. I threw on a new shirt and a skirt. I hated skirts, but they would be the least restrictive on my wound, which I didn’t have time to worry about because the team needed my help to find Spencer, not to mention, what on earth was I going to do with the dead body in the middle of my apartment?

Up the ‘pass out attempt counter’ to four.

I limped back out of my bedroom, stepped over the man's body that finally stopped bleeding all over my rug, and grabbed my jacket and phone to head to the BAU, locking the door firmly shut behind me.

* * *

“What took you so long?” JJ hissed as I entered the bullpen. 

Nearly all of my focus was on how I was walking, making sure that I didn’t look as crippled as I felt, so I could barely comprehend what she had just asked. She stared at me expectantly for a few seconds before I realized that was my cue to answer her. “Problem with my car. Sorry.”

I quickly searched for a seat while Hotch started reviewing what we had, “We know that Spencer was taken between 8 and 11pm earlier tonight. If DeLeon sticks to our profile, he should still be somewhere in the immediate DC area. I visited Clyde in the hospital and he said he got the license plate numbers, but we’re sure DeLeon’s ditched those by now.”

“I ran those and the car was abandoned six miles away from Spencer’s apartment heading east,” Penelope chimed in.

“JJ, will you call local PD to begin blocking roadways and shutting down everything within a ten mile radius of Reid’s apartment?” Hotch requested, but it was more of a command.

“Absolutely,” JJ replied, already halfway out the door. 

“Chambers, are you still willing to host a press conference about why we are shutting the area down?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Great. We have a script, but you mentioned adding in something so that DeLeon would know where to meet you, or if he’s already set up, to send you the location?” Hotch confirmed.

“Yes,” I repeated. I tried hard to focus on how I was going to send him that message, or elicit one out of him, instead of the throbbing artery in my leg.

“Chambers,” Morgan whistled twice to get my attention, “Chambers!”

“Yeah, what?” I faltered.

“Are you doing okay? You look a little pale,” he observed.

“No, I’m fine,” I insisted.

“Are you sure?” he pushed.

“Yes, I’m good. I’m ready,” I assured. I stood up, which was a colossal mistake on my part, having not evaluated my current situation.

“No you’re not, you’re bleeding,” Emily said, concern coating her face.

“I’m what?” The question flew out of my mouth before my head caught up. I looked down to see a steady stream of blood running down my leg. I whispered, “Oh.”

“What happened, sit down,” Emily suggested, walking over to me.

“Oh, nothing, I’m sure it’s fine,” I shrugged. “Put me on air.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Derek asked. “You can’t go out like that.”

“Another one?” Hotch confirmed, calm as ever. I just nodded.

“Another one of what?” Emily turned to face Hotch. He raised his eyebrows as he tilted his head toward me, his silent way of passing the question off. Emily brown eyes trained on my own.

“Another break in.”

“What?” both her and Derek asked at the same time. Derek followed with, “Break in?”

“Yes, break in,” I confirmed, reaching down to pull up my skirt, exposing the source of the blood. “It’s been going on for a few months now.”

“A few _months_?” Derek repeated.

“Repeating what I say is not going to help,” I attempted a joke.

“Why are we just now hearing about this?” Emily stepped back in.

I looked down, “There’s nothing you could’ve done to change it.”

“Yes! We could’ve added more locks, or higher security, or-”

I cut her off with a demeaning scoff, “Oh come on. You think the people who have the guts to come after me are going to shy away from some locks or security systems? That’s not exactly how this works.”

“We could’ve been there,” she firmly hissed between her teeth.

“Why?” I legitimately wanted to know, “So you could’ve lost as much sleep as I have? So you could’ve come out with as many bruises as cuts as me? So you could’ve ended up as one of the dead bodies in my living room? No thanks.”

“ _One_ of the dead bodies in your living room?” Derek’s eyebrows were still drawn in concern.

“Did I say dead body?” I questioned. _Smooth, bitch._ “I don’t recall mentioning a dead body.”

He sighed and shook his head. “You are impossible.”

“Yes, and while this is quite fascinating chit-chat, can we please refocus on our main issue?” I redirected.

I hadn’t noticed Rossi had left the room until he came back, plopping an FBI grade medical kit on the table in front of me. I gave him a tight lipped smile and a nod, my way of saying thank you. He returned a single nod, letting me know he got the message. I started patching myself back up, while trying to think of the best way to get the right message to DeLeon.

When it was time for me to face the cameras, I felt I looked sufficiently professional with my hair brushed and an absence of blood on my leg. 

I walked out of the building to a stupid amount of cameras, and felt blinded by the number of lights in my eyes. It was as dark as the night could get, completely cloud covered preventing any sort of moonlight from seeping through, and I wasn’t sure how many people were watching breaking news at 12:20am, but there was really only one person who needed to see it. Well, maybe two.

“Good evening, I’m Agent Pincher with the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI. Earlier tonight, we received a report of a theft and kidnapping from a local bar and club, and believe the perpetrator, Mr. Robbi Raymond, to be armed and dangerous. We ask that all residents within the DC and surrounding areas stay in their homes and get off the roads as soon as possible while we do everything we can to find this man and bring him to justice,” I presented. The reporters all started firing questions at me, all of which I ignored, turning around to head back inside the building. Where it was quiet.

“Why’d we even give you a script,” Rossi playfully sighed, “if you’re not even going to use it?”

“I used it. Kind of,” I smiled.

“Who the hell is Agent Pincher?” he asked, “And how does that relate to DeLeon?”

I was about to answer him, but I started seeing stars. My vision got fuzzy and it sounded like Rossi’s voice was playing from a muffled radio about a hundred feet from me. I reached out for something, anything, and barely felt fabric over my fingertips before I felt nothing at all.

* * *

Pass out counter: 1.

There was something cold and wet dripping down my forehead and thigh. I blinked my eyes open only to get a freezing cold water droplet in my eye. I sat up, causing the ziploc bag of half-melted ice to fall to the floor. I was back in the round table room laying on the couch, Penelope sitting in a chair next to me. 

“Morning,” she chirped. I looked down at my leg which also had a bag of ice on it and a fresh set of bandages. After realizing that, I made a move to get up. Penelope placed one of her soft hands on my shoulder and said, “Slow down, we wouldn’t want you passing out again.”

I ignored her thoughtful comment, and went to fully stand up. “Have we heard anything yet?”

Penelope looked at me awkwardly for a moment, like she didn’t know how to answer. _They told her not to tell me about it._ “What is it, Pen?”

“I’m not supposed to say anything,” she admitted.

“Come on, please,” I begged, “You know I can help. What happened?”

“They got a message saying ‘See you there.’ They’re trying to figure out where ‘there’ is,” Penelope informed me.

“Fantastic,” I smiled, “If you let me outta here, I can go tell them where ‘there’ is.”

“Why don’t you tell me, and I’ll go tell them,” she smiled and nodded enthusiastically. 

I mirrored her smile, but shook my head instead, “Why don’t I just tell them myself.”

“Aundreya, please,” she pleaded.

“Penelope,” I mimicked, “ _please._ This is Spencer’s life we’re talking about.”

She seemed torn for a few moments before relenting, “Fine.” She let me go, but called after me, “You really do love him, don’t you?”

I shyly smiled, and deflected, “I’ve got to go save him.” 

She nodded and I felt her eyes on me all the way out the door.

* * *

“You have to keep it on the whole time,” Derek reminded me.

“I know,” I was irritated, “You’ve told me that three times now.”

“The entire time. Don’t take it off of your own free will.”

“I will smack you,” I warned, adjusting my skirt, making sure that the wire was expertly hidden. I knew he was doing it to annoy me and kind of joke around to keep me lighthearted before I went in, but it was really just amplifying my nerves.

“Unless he searches you and finds it, you keep it on the whole - ow!” Derek started. I’d slapped him across the arm. Hard.

“What? I gave you a heads up,” I pointed out.

“Are you ready to go?” Aaron asked, walking over to where I was standing.

“Yes,” I confidently replied.

“Good. We will be listening the whole time,” he assured. I nodded, took a deep breath, and headed toward the gentlemen’s club entrance. 

I walked in to find that it was completely empty, as it should’ve been considering the road blocks and evacuations. It felt eerie, though, walking into an environment I was used to that bustled with people, now completely silent. It felt beyond wrong.

I started whistling, “Oh DeLeon, where are you?” When I got no response, I tried again, “DeLeon, I know you’re in here.”

I felt the air shift around me before I heard, “Behind you, babe.”

I ducked as I spun around, making sure to dodge any possible headshots he was planning. I was right to do so, because when I could fully face him, he was holding a half filled glass bottle of whiskey. “Where’s Spencer?”

“Aww, your precious little baby agent,” he mockingly cooed, rolling his eyes, “He’s not here.”

“You know, for as good of a criminal as you are, you’re a pretty shitty liar,” I commented.

He completely ignored me as he changed the subject, “I have to admit, that broadcast you put out was pretty clever. Agent Pincher and Robbi Raymond? Made this venue very easy to pick.” 

“I try,” I shrugged. He and I had first met in a club in Chicago that was owned by a very rich man named Robbi Raymond. He owned multiple strip clubs across the country, and the one we were standing in right now was one of them. Or, at least, used to be. Raymond went bankrupt after falling for an elaborate scam set up by the Cloaks, one that I helped complete when I pick-pocketed him during a lap dance, finally getting my first bit of recognition. DeLeon and his boys nicknamed me Pocket Pincher. “I made things easy for you, so why don’t you make things easy for me. Where’s Spencer?”

“He’s not here,” DeLeon repeated.

I huffed, “Sure, not in this exact room, but I know he’s here somewhere. Where has your creativity taken you this time? The back room? Behind the stage?”

“Why don’t you let me lead you there?” he suggested. I gestured for him to start walking, but he didn’t budge. “Blindfolded.”

I scoffed, “And why on earth would I trust you to blindly lead me to a dark room where you could kill us both?”

He shrugged, “That depends on how much you want to see your little _not-boyfriend_ again.”

I glared at him for a long while, hating how his smirk grew ever so slightly at my silence. He knew it would eventually turn into a yes. “Fine.”

“Fantastic,” he sang, walking to the other side of me. A shiver ran down my spine at the mere thought of having him out of eyesight, but I didn’t really have a choice. I don’t know where the blindfold came from, but it was over my eyes in seconds, and completely blacked out. He then placed a hand on my back, which I squirmed away from, but he grabbed the hem of my shirt.

When he lifted it up, exposing my back to the stale club air, I demanded, “Get your hands off me!”

“What? Can’t a guy admire his handiwork?” he asked, reminding me of yet another scar he left on my body. 

“Don’t touch me,” I bit, “I’ll just follow your voice as long as you tell me which directions to turn.” I couldn’t have him leading me blindly to where Spencer was without letting the team know how to get there.

“I don’t think so,” he said, reaching up behind my hair to yank on the small wire that was placed there. “I wouldn’t want it to be that easy to find.”

 _I am in big, big trouble._ “Lead the way, then,” I spat. He did, placing his hand back on my back and leading me down multiple hallways and a variety of left turns, all of which I tried to keep track of, until he ripped the blindfold off my eyes. 

We were in a small, what I guessed to be a VIP, dance room with two poles and a lavish red velvet couch. Tied to one of those poles was Spencer Reid. I was about to call out to him when DeLeon clapped his scruffy, clammy hand over my mouth, pulled out a gun, and aimed it at Spencer. “Why don’t you sit on the couch?”

He’s stepped to the side of me and I nodded frantically at his request. _He just can’t hurt Spencer._ He removed his hand from my mouth, then brought it to his, putting his pointer against his lips. I walked over to the couch and sat down like he requested, finally getting to study Spencer. He was tied, not chained, and was slouching, as if he was sleeping standing up. I would have thought that was exactly what he was doing had it not been for his partially unbuttoned shirt, already developing bruises, and bloodshot eyes staring right at me. They were glossed over, and I couldn’t tell if he was actually seeing me, or just looking through me. I so desperately wanted to call out to him, let the rest of the team know that I’d found him, but DeLeon still had his gun aimed in Spencer’s direction. I was worried that any sudden movement would set him off.

He walked over to me, lowering his gun just slightly, and whispered, “I don’t like it when people don’t hold up their end of the deal.” As he said that, he made quick work of removing the wire. _So much for Derek’s ‘keep it on’ pep talk._ I thought he would smash it right there, but instead he back walked toward a small changing room, careful to open the door with as little sound as possible. 

DeLeon disappeared behind the door for a moment or two, just enough time for me to whisper, “Spence.”

He met my eyes, like _really_ met my eyes, but there was no emotion there. He was as cold as stone, and I had to respect him for finding a way to get through this. When DeLeon returned he was holding a small radio-like device that I didn’t totally recognize. He set it down on a small wood table across the room, set the wire in front of it, and clicked play. 

“What do you want, DeLeon?” the voice came over the speaker. _My_ voice.

“You broke our deal,” his voice sneered, “I want to show you what happens when you break other people’s things.”

My mind was racing. _We’ve never had that conversation before. I’ve never said that before. How did he get my voice on that recording? I’ve never said those things before._

I was listening and trying to figure out how he did that, and _why_? What was he planning? As if he could read my mind, DeLeon walked over and whispered, “You’re not the only one with tech inclined friends. I just handed over all of those recordings of your voice, and what do you know? It’s like we’re having a conversation.” I was astonished. I wanted to stand up and yell, which I was about to do, but DeLeon added, “I wouldn’t scream if I were you. We’re going to keep things nice and quiet.” His gun was back on Spencer.

He walked to the middle of the room and quietly announced just quieter than the recording, “We’re going to play a little game. I’ve got a variety of fun things planned for us, but every time a new one is introduced, I will give Aundreya here the option to take it or leave it.”

“I don’t understand,” I replied, shaking my head.

“It’s very simple,” DeLeon purred, cracking his knuckles. “You get a choice: I hurt you, or I hurt him.”

My answer was also very simple, “Me.”

“I figured as much,” he grinned, walking over to me, “Oh, and try not to make any noise, would you?” I braced myself as he wound up to hit me, planting a very solid blow to my right cheek. 

“You or him?” DeLeon asked.

“Me.” And he hit me again, this time on the left side.

“You or him?”

“Me.” Another one.

“You or him?”

“Me.” This one was aimed at my nose, and I heard a distinct crack as blood started running down my face.

“You or him?”

“Me.” _Me, me, me, me, me. A hundred times over, me._

I lost count of how many times he’d hit me when it turned to kicking. I wanted so badly to groan, or even just wince, but I couldn't risk it. I bit my tongue so hard I tasted blood, or maybe that was just the blood from the cut on my lip, I wasn’t sure anymore. Somehow, I ended up off the couch and laying on the floor, my eyes stinging with tears, but I tried to keep them at bay. It killed me not to fight back, the only thing keeping me sane was not looking at Spencer, not showing him how much pain I was really in. DeLeon lifted me off the ground and tossed me against the wall, each blow holding more anger than the last. He moved the wire and the recording out of the room because it was him that was making too much noise.

“Him!” he yelled in my face. I could feel some of the spit that came with it.

“No,” I croaked, “Me.”

He threw me back on the couch, and walked back into the changing room, returning with a small dagger.

“You,” he asked, “Or _him_?”

“Aundreya, no,” Spencer wept. I finally looked up at him to see that his clothes were even more disheveled and he was straining against the ropes. Tears were streaming down his face, “Please, just let it be me, once, just once, please. It’s okay, you can stop, just please, stop, let it be me.”

I looked away from his broken eyes. I had to be able to keep my strong face and if I kept looking at him, I knew it wouldn’t take long for me to lose it. I shook my head, “No. Me.”

* * *

The team was just outside listening to the audio coming through on the wire. It sounded pretty standard, Chambers and DeLeon making insulting arguments at one another, while also being cautious enough not to piss the other off _too_ much. But it seemed like it was taking too long. Apparently, she’d been taken to the room where Spencer was, but they never heard his voice, not once. It’s like he wasn’t there, which worried them about his condition. 

“What is taking her so long?” JJ asked, one of the most visibly worried about the situation. “She’s supposed to ‘take care of him’ whatever that means, and then get Spence out of there and call us for backup. What’s the hold up?”

“Trust her,” Tara said, “She’ll pull through.”

“I kinda get what JJ’s saying, though,” Derek joined, “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“They’re talking, and since we can’t see what’s going on, maybe she’s just trying to further defuse the situation before she goes in,” Tara continued, pointing out the logical explanations.

Right as Derek was about to agree and get back to work, Emily, who’d been the one currently listening in with Hotch, pulled her headphones off and said, “I think we have a problem. While I’ve been listening, Aundreya has made a couple comments that seem in her realm, but maybe just a little out of character. I started thinking back to the last time she was in contact with DeLeon, and she had more … I don’t know, I guess _fiery_ moments, and dark humor, which isn’t really happening here.”

“It’s a different situation,” Tara stated. “Last time it was just her being tortured, now there’s someone else in the mix.”

“I know, but…” Emily trailed off with a hesitant grimace on her face. “We were also in danger, or at least she knew we were in possible danger.”

“What are you implying,” Hotch, who’d also taken his headphones off by now, asked.

“I don’t think it’s her talking.”

“What? It’s her voice,” Derek pointed out.

“Sure, but there’s technology nowadays that can recreate someone’s voice. As we know, DeLeon has plenty of sample recordings of her voice that he could’ve used,” Emily considered.

“So you think that he removed her wire and is playing a pre-recorded audio of them having a conversation?” Hotch confirmed. Emily nodded.

“How sure are we about this?” JJ asked, “Because if what we’re hearing is actually what is happening, and we go in there, we risk getting both of them killed.”

All eyes turned to Hotch and Prentiss. “Prentiss?”

She shook her head, “I don’t know. I just don’t have a good feeling.”

Hotch and Prentiss exchanged a look, then he turned his eyes to the rest of the team. Sighing, he lifted one side of the headphones to his ear. A heavy silence fell over the team as Hotch continued listening, waiting for his decision.

Finally, Hotch put the headphones down and faced the team. “I want you all ready.”

* * *

Pass out counter: 2.

I felt outside of my body. It was an experience I’d had multiple times, but not since my days in the Cloaks and the ring. I was struggling to remember how we’d gotten to this point, actually.

_‘You or him?’_

_‘Me.’_

He came back with a case filled with glass vials, his other hand holding onto a syringe.

_‘What is that?’_

_‘Now I know your drug of choice, Aundreya, but in case you change your mind, what’s his?’_

_‘He’s not on drugs.’_

_‘Not recently, no. But I know he has a history.’_

_‘You don’t need to know. I’m not changing my mind.’_

_‘Fine. I’ll get that fine mixture of fentanyl and pcp together. Remember what happened last time you were on that?’_

_‘Of course I do.’_

_‘You’re poor friend, Sydney, was it? Had it not been for this drug, and your weakness, she might still be alive.’_

He was right. I couldn’t go back on that drug. It was really the only one that got to me, like _really_ got to me. The only one that made me feel out of my mind anymore. High. It took me so long to get off it, I couldn’t just let him force me back on it.

But I couldn’t let him force Spencer back on dilaudid. That would be so much worse. He worked just as hard as I had to kick that habit, and his mind was more valuable to the team than mine, so I would have to go through with it.

_‘Last chance to change your mind, Aundreya.’_

_‘I won’t.’_

_‘Dilaudid! My drug is dilaudid. Don’t put her back on that.’_

God Spencer, I love you but that was stupid. I had it under control.

_‘Sorry, but this isn’t your choice. She already said yes.’_

Then the needle plunged into my vein and now I was here. Completely out of it, and struggling to get back in it. My vision was fuzzy and I couldn’t be sure anything I was seeing was real, but I saw a figure, _DeLeon_ , standing next to someone else that had to be Spencer. _Spencer. What is he doing to Spencer?_

What I saw was blood. Way too much of it. It was coming from Spencer and it had to’ve been because of DeLeon. My mind said he was dead, but I couldn’t be sure. My mind saw DeLeon beating him and using the same dagger he did on me only moments ago, but I couldn’t be sure. Had that only been moments ago? Had it been longer than that? I couldn’t be sure.

What I could be sure of, though, was that Spencer was in trouble, and I couldn’t feel a damn thing inside my body. I moved to walk toward them, but my body jerked back. 

_‘That’s why. She always gets a little antsy on that stuff.’_

DeLeon must’ve done something to me. Something _else._ I wiggled around until I was aware enough to feel a metal pole between my shoulder blades. I pulled on my wrists but they were securely together. 

_There’s a second pole in here. Not chains, not rope. Zip ties, maybe?_

I fought against my own mind to stay as mentally present as I could. Spencer relied on it.

_Zip ties, zip ties, how to get out of zip ties?_

My body was still as numb as a block of ice and as flexible as a rubber band. Flexible enough to stretch in a way it shouldn’t, all the way until it snapped. I felt the moment it popped, but I didn’t _feel_ it. I slipped my wrists out of the zip ties, and had to use my one hand to grab and pull the other one forward. I evaluated my wrist before jolting the joint back into place. I was about to get up to walk toward DeLeon, when something flashed across my field of vision. I sat there paralyzed, doing my best to make any sounds or sudden movements.

_It’s not real, it’s not real. Don’t move or yell, that’ll draw attention to the progress you just made. It’s not real. Just make it through this. When you hallucinate you’re getting closer to the end of the high, and then you’ll have your mind back. It’s not real, make it through this, and then you can think enough to save Spencer. Save Spencer._

I waited until they subsided enough that I could open my eyes without feeling the need to throw up or pass out. I waited a couple more moments ( _you don’t have any more moments to waste! But you only have one chance so make sure it counts_ ), and then I got up. I moved slowly at first, still not fully aware of my body, but the more I moved, the quicker my blood pumped and the quicker my head cleared. I looked around for any weapon I could use, but there weren’t any within my reach. DeLeon still had that dagger, and who knows what else behind that door he frequently disappeared behind, but I couldn’t get there without him seeing. I would have to go the old fashioned way.

I walked up behind him, slammed the knife out of his hand, and wrapped my arm around his neck. He started pounding on my arm but I couldn’t be bothered to feel it. He started backing up until he rammed me into the wall, once, twice, three times until it weakened my grip and I let go. When he spun around to face me, I was satisfied by the shocked look on his face.

“I-I thought that-”

“That I couldn’t get out of my head on this drug?” I finished, “I guess you underestimated me.” I went in for a kick, which landed, but the one that was sent back my way was equally as powerful. It was nice to have a clearer mind, but I had to admit that starting to feel some of the sensations in my body again was not nearly as nice, or advantageous. I went for a one-two, but he caught my arm and spun me around so my back was facing him. He drove me toward the wall, his signature move being to smash my head against it until I went unconscious, but I’d finally figured out how to avoid it. I let him push me, building momentum, because when I was at arm's length from the wall, I stuck my foot out. I planted one lower, followed by the other higher, and pushed off the wall into a backflip, landing right behind DeLeon. I grabbed the side of his neck and used his move against him, driving his head into the wall until he was on his knees. I picked up the blade from the ground, holding it at his throat as I stood behind DeLeon.

“Do it,” DeLeon challenged. Before I could respond, the doors came busting down around me. Coming in guns-a-blazing was the team. 

“Chambers it’s okay, it’s over,” Emily’s soothing voice assured, “You can put that down now.”

I realized their guns were all aimed in our direction, DeLeon and I’s, and I realized that I probably looked like the dangerous one. I would’ve been insulted by her insinuating I was going to kill him, but she was right. I was going to. I was still thinking about doing it anyways.

“It’s never over. If you let me live, I will find a way to get to you. Just do it!” DeLeon screeched. I held the blade closer to his neck as I looked around. I was truly worried he was right. Maybe the only way this ended was with him dead.

But then my eyes landed on Spencer. He was looking at me the same way he did before I killed that man in front of him in prison. I remembered how hurt he looked, _betrayed_ even, when I did that. He whispered to me three simple little words, “You’ve done enough.”

And I guess I had.

I tossed the dagger to the side, much to DeLeon’s dismay, “No! I told you to do it! Just kill me already!”

I laughed, “If you wanted me to kill you, you should have just asked. No need to go through all of these games.” 

Derek smirked as he tossed me his cuffs. I grabbed them out of the air, shoved DeLeon from his knees all the way onto the ground, and cuffed his hands behind his back. 

“I’ll die in there,” DeLeon said.

“Oh I’m certain you will, one way or the other. You know, I _do_ have a lot of friends,” I wickedly sang. “Plus, I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“No, not like that,” DeLeon confessed.

“He’s not worth your time,” Derek said, squatting down to get closer to our level, “He just wanted an epic end to his story. You,” he looked at me, “you were an epic end. Prison though? Much _weaker_.”

We exchanged a grin as I yanked DeLeon to standing. “I’ll find a way. You and your team will pay for this.”

I handed him to Derek who was even more aggressive with him than I was, and whispered, “You can’t get out like I can. You will have to live the rest of your life, however long, in prison knowing that when it came down to it, I still beat you. Despite everything you put me through, put _my team_ through, we still beat you.”

Without another word, Derek dragged him out of the club. I turned to survey the rest of the team, and found that Spencer was getting released from the ropes that tied him to the pole. On shaking legs he stepped down from the stage, nearly collapsing as he did so. I was still pretty unbalanced on my own feet, and stumbled over to him. I reached out, but retracted my hand. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to see me after everything I put him through, and I understood what Mateo meant when he said he wanted to touch me but was worried he would break me more. Spencer met my eyes, and the moment he did, I finally released all of the emotions I’d been holding in. The tears came like a river after a snowstorm, and Spencer pulled me in for the safest hug of my life. I heard him sniffling as the shoulder of my shirt dampened, his grip on me tightening with each passing second. I held him with as much strength as I could manage, fingers spread far so I could reach as much of him as possible. It was the most perfect, imperfect moment that I could’ve asked for.

* * *

I was really sick and tired of hospitals.

If they weren’t so goddamn helpful, I would burn them all to the ground. 

Surprisingly, my injuries weren’t as bad as they were the last time I saw DeLeon, or Xena for that matter. Plus, I’d had enough doctors tell me what I needed to do, including Spencer, that I could probably become a doctor. I was relieved when they discharged us later that evening. 

Before I had a chance to leave the hospital, Hotch pulled me aside. “I’m proud of you.”

I shyly smiled, “Why?”

“You acted very bureau-like today and conducted yourself very well.”

 _Oh._ I let out a laugh through my nose, “So you're proud I didn’t kill him.”

Even he had to crack a small smile at that, but he honestly complimented, “It takes strength, strength I did not have when it was my turn.”

“That was completely different,” I defended him. I mean, Foyet had killed his wife _and_ threatened his child.

“Maybe,” he shrugged, looking at the ceiling quickly before returning his attention to me, “But either way, you’ve grown and I’m proud of you for that.”

I smiled at him with a small nod, “Thank you.”

He nodded, but not in my wildest dreams did he open his arms for a hug. I was so shocked by the gesture that I almost stood there awkwardly staring at him, which I did for a second before I accepted. It was a very quick hug, but it got me grinning like a fool. _Hotch doesn’t hug. But he just told me he was proud of me and hugged me. What universe have I entered?_

When we pulled away, it was his turn to shyly smile and look down. “For everything.”

He nodded again, and replied, “Of course,” he tapped me on the shoulder and nodded to my left, “It looks like someone is waiting for you.”

He gave me a pointed look before I turned to walk away from him and toward the bruised, still disheveled man waiting by the elevator. We’d both been given new clothes to wear, but Spencer’s were definitely a size too big, the sweatshirt sleeves hanging below his hands. 

“Thank y-”

“I’m sor-” We both started at the same time.

“You first,” Spencer said.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, shaking my head. “I never wanted you to have to get involved in this, and-”

“Don’t apologize,” he cut me off, “You can’t control what that man does, all you could do was try to stop him, which may I remind you, you did.”

“We,” I corrected.

“Sure, but mainly you,” he replied, “And actually, I was going to say thank you.”

“For what?” I raised my eyebrows, legitimately shocked, “For getting you kidnapped?”

“No,” he half laughed, “For saving me. You’ve done it way more than once when you could have just protected yourself.”

“Well, then, I guess you’re welcome,” I added, “Hopefully next time I’ll save you from a situation _I_ didn’t create.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to save me at all,” he pointed out.

“Agreed.” 

We went down the elevator and out the front doors when Spencer stopped to face me. “Would you want to come over?” When I didn’t immediately respond, he rushed, “I just really want to have you there, breathing, so I know that you're alive and okay.”

I nodded and released a nervous breath of my own, “Good, because I was about to invite myself over for the same reason.”

He extended his hand out to me, and I laced my fingers between his as I led him to my car.

* * *

When we got into his apartment, I realized I had literally nothing with me. No pyjamas, no fresh clothes for the morning, nothing.

“That’s okay,” Spencer said, waving it off as he made his way to his bedroom, “I’m sure I have some old shirts or hoodies you could wear.”

I followed after him, to find a pile of shirts and sweatshirts strewn all over his closet floor. “Uh, sorry about the mess,” he quickly apologized, before snatching up a red MIT crewneck. 

“You’ve been to my apartment, so there’s really no need to apologize for messes,” I said, overexaggerating a grimace. I took the sweatshirt from his outstretched hand, slipping it on over my thin t-shirt. “And thank you.”

“Yeah, of course,” he replied. “Can I get you anything? Like water or coffee or-”

I cut him off with a playful tone, “Coffee? Aren’t we going to try and get some sleep?”

“Yeah, sorry, I guess you’re right,” Spencer said, shaking his head, already halfway back to his kitchen. He stood there silently, watching me as I approached him. As I got closer, I could see in his eyes how shaken he was, and I lightly placed my hands on his shoulders. I looked him straight in the eyes and he nodded slightly before wrapping his arms around me. I did the same and could feel the small twitching of his back muscles. He held onto me tighter, and even though he was trying to be quiet about it, I could tell he was crying.

I kept one hand on his back as I brought the other up to run my fingers through his unruly curls. “Spencer, it’s over,” I whispered, “We’re safe.”

He pulled back to look at me with his glistening hazel eyes, “I know, it’s just…” I stayed there in silence with him while he furiously wiped at his eyes. He started moving away from me and toward the couch as he said, “I’m sorry I should be comforting you about this. DeLeon was after you to begin with, not me, and what he did to you, he-” he choked up.

“This isn’t a competition,” I reminded him, taking his hands as we sat down, “This is not my pain over yours. You went through just as much trauma as I did.”

He let his eyes flutter shut, “It’s just that whenever I close my eyes, I can see-”

Both of my hands snapped up to cup his face, forcing him to open his eyes and look at me, “Don’t. See me. I’m right here in front of you, all of that is over. Look at me, I’m okay,” I insisted.

“But you’re not,” Spencer countered, tracing his fingers lightly over the bruises covering nearly every inch of my body.

“I will be,” I assured. “And so will you.”

He leaned his forehead against mine, and if I had to guess, he was doing exactly what I was doing; reveling in the feeling that we were both breathing and very much alive.

“How are you doing so well with all of this?” Spencer whispered.

“I’m not,” I admitted, “But there’s something to be said for the amount of relief the FBI brings to someone when they catch and imprison the person who’s been terrorizing them.”

He nodded his head against mine, “I guess I see that. And what about..?”

I bit my bottom lip, “I’m trying. I’m really trying.”

“Remember you can always talk to me about it,” he offered, “I know what it’s like to be forced on drugs and how hard it can be to stop. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you’re going to be with me tonight. I don’t want to think about what I might be doing if you weren’t,” I replied.

“I guess we’ll both be working to not think about something tonight, then.”

“I guess so.”

I must’ve started to doze off, because when I stirred, I was being carried bridal style from the couch. “Spence..?”

“I’ve got you,” he said, setting me down on his bed. My eyes were still half shut, but I immediately noticed the lack of warmth when he got up to do something.

I whined, “Where are you going? Come back.”

I heard a small, breathy laugh as the bed sunk down behind me. He brought one arm around my middle and pulled me to him, my back on his chest. For a man that didn’t like hugging or physical touch, he was very good at it. I layered my arm over his while my eyes started to droop again. “Goodnight, Aundreya.”

I yawned, “Goodnight, Spencer.”

I couldn’t have asked for a better way to fall asleep than to Spencer’s rhythmic, steady, and very much alive breathing.


End file.
